And so it begins…

So there I was, relaxing in the other place, flowing freely, no form , no rules. Like being in a nice warm bath at the end of a very long day(a very long day which consisted of more than 5000 years of slavery), when I felt the all too familiar and all too unwelcome tug.

I was being summoned. And there was only one person who had summoned me in the past five years…

Even though I had already wowed this particular audience many times, it was still showtime.

Despite not being able to stand his face, it was still amusing to see him sputter when the guilt inducing visage of Kitty Jones appeared in the pentacle. Nose red. Eye's blurry, like she'd been interrupted in the middle of a good cry. I looked up at him, schooling her features into a delightful mixture of hate, sorrow and fear.

"Nice Bartimaeus, "old Natty said, regaining his composure. "I guess at this point I'm supposed to be tormented by the guilt and run out of the pentacle like this is my first summoning right?" He rolled his eyes. "Really, I expected better."

No fooling me though. I could tell that more than his own form decaying, more than any monster or any other visage of beauty, this guise would guarantee me more amusement than a magician with Parkinsons( many happy stories come from magicians being unable to draw properly or making eloquent hand gestures. My personal favorite involves a certain dashing Djinn and some rather badly misinterpreted hand gestures.)

I changed the guise a bit, replacing the look of "I've just cried" with a look that said "I've just realized I love uptight ponces in suits that are far too tight for them". I changed he outfit so that she now wore a blouse(quite forgetting to button up the top) and then I exaggerated her curves.(Nothing over the top. Just a few light touches to make what was there even more desirable.)

"What do you want from me master?" I simpered.

He sputtered a bit more, his complexion suggesting that his blood was rapidly alternating between speeding up and trying to go down and then giving up due to the tightness of said suit. But it wouldn't last long. Nat had enough experience and considerable self control now. I estimated it would be mere seconds before he took control of himself. I had to strike hard before that.

Bending forward so that he had a delightful view I whispered "Oh John…I need you…"

Me and Nat stared at each other and we both burst out laughing.

"Just a bit too far eh Nat?" I asked, quickly lapsing back into the guise of Ptlomey.

"A bit." Said Nat, sighing and sitting down. " It became too obviously you…when you still looked like her…" ( Ah, the ideas he gives me to torment him with. Next he'll be telling me his childhood fears and confessing that he only ever wanted a friend. And possibly not to have been mauled by demons at the age of six. Can't have everything I suppose.)

"So what is it this time? I can't think of your star waning this quickly after saving the entire government again…" I said. Really, it seems every time I'm summoned I wind up saving the entire British Empire. Typical that I save it in a covert way while certain other Djinn (ie Farquarl) keep saving their empires in ways which makes for very good additions to history books.

There's a conspiracy of silence at work here.

"No, it's nothing too serious." Said Nat, and I immediately resolved to start playing "who can guess John Mandrake's birth name after I tell you it begin with an N and ends with an Athhaniel" with any and all magicians within a four mile radius.

"However," he sighed again, continuing "you are the only demon I know of who is intelligent and cunning enough to help me with this." (Well, it seems in just a few weeks Nat decided to think I can be buttered up like really gullible toast).

"So you're saying I'm the only one worthy of being enslaved and being tortured by you? (Alas, there were many continuations from there, ie. If I keep overpreforming will you allow even more people to enslave me? And Wow Nat! That makes me realize these chains and constant pain are a sign of praise! Feels good now! Etc. However, most of them were sarcasm and I don't do sarcasm.)

Nat calmly sat behind his desk and crossed his fingers. Never a good sign. "Bartimaeus…we are both completely aware of how this situation is going to unfold. You will keep whining about slavery and how you will reveal my birth name, I will think up some elaborate plan to ensure your loyalty and doom you if you betray me…"

"Don't forget that we constantly trade insults while all that is going on. That's the moneymaker right there."

He smoothed his hairs back and continued playing with his fingers. "Indeed. However, I need a clever, reliable demon who will not …to put it bluntly, screw up at the first stage in which innovation is required. We also both realize that any time spent with me is time not spent with other magicians who are far more capable and indeed, willing to punish you for your…lip."

Whilst what he was saying was absolute tripe, he did tempt me to accept simply so someone can properly mock him whenever he keeps preening himself like Lovelace.

Of course, the other upside of Nathaniel is I can mock as freely as I want-he can't really punish me, can't really send me back until the job is done. It's a lose/win/lose/win situation, with the upside that the magician occupies some of the lose slots as well.

But all this thinking is for show. I don't want to serve Nathaniel. I know if he could find a more effective demon he would summon him in a heartbeat. And he still has a conscience. Say what you want about insecurities, but it's always far, far more entertaining to hit someone where they also willingly hit themselves.

"Yeah, yeah." I said. "Doom, consequences, blah blah blah. What is the assignment?"

For the first time, he blushed in my presence without me having directly caused it.

"Well…you may not really believe it…"

And I struggled to. Every damn time.

This is the start of a sandbox style fic for the Bartimaeus trilogy. It will feature a multitude of one shots and no central plot, with Nathaniel swinging between his Golem's Eye and Ptlomey 's gate personas. Basically, all the other fics I'm continuing are serious, and it's been getting me down.

Some will be bizarre( Nathaniel and Bartimaeus accidently winding up in a bar at which Kitty works and being forced to take part in a rap battle), some will be fairly complex and feature magical forensics( Nat and Bartimaeus have to discover who's been killing random commoners and use their rapping skills to do so) and some will be pure crack (Bartimaeus and Nat realize that a professor at Oxford is instigating protests against the government…so they challenge him to a rap battle.) whilst other will involving serious plotting and power struggles (Nat trying to convince his conscience that it's acceptable to keep manipulate and scheme to reach the top – by rapping to himself.)

Also, there will be only one rap battle, but those are the four plots I got so far.